Book of Days
by Cherry Blossom
Summary: Crossover with Tanya Huff's 'Sing the Four Quarters' series. Quatre is a bard, one of the few able to Sing all four elements of air, water, fire, and earth. But will this ability be enough to save his country and his friends?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Book of Days – Chapter One

Author: Cherry Blossom

Notes: Shkoder, Cemandia, the Bardic Hall, the kigh and anything else dealing with the book _Sing the Four Quarters_ doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Tanya Huff. And incidentally, Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me either. Neither does the song _Book of Days_, which belongs to Enya. All I own is this story. 1+2, 3+4, 5+M, and other various pairings. Totally AU. 

__

~*~*~*~*~

One day, one night, one moment,   
my dreams could be, tomorrow.   
One step, one fall, one falter,   
east or west, over earth or by ocean.   
One way to be my journey,   
this way could be my Book of Days. 

__

No day, no night, no moment,   
can hold me back from trying.   
I'll flag, I'll fall, I'll falter,   
I'll find my day may be, Far and Away.   
Far and Away.   
  
One day, one night, one moment,   
with a dream to believe in.   
One step, one fall, one falter,   
and a new earth across a wide ocean.   
  
This way became my journey,   
this day ends together, Far and Away…   
~*~*~*~*~

CHAPTER ONE

Blood.

It flowed out of the ground like water, like the very earth had been wounded. Red, and thick, and coppery. The smell of it made his eyes water and he willed his body to move away from the dark liquid as it crept closer to his bare feet.

But he couldn't move, couldn't force himself to so much as blink and the blood kept on flowing, slowly spreading and staining the ground. It looked much like Aryuse's prized strawberry wine had when he'd spilled a jug on the carpet last Quatre Festival. Only the smell…

He opened his mouth, maybe to shout for help, maybe to sing a plea to the kigh, although he had no idea how to fix an injury to the earth itself. But the words wouldn't come and the blood was now at his toes, licking a crimson trail up the arch of his foot and enclosing around his ankles.

__

//Get up.//

'I'm trying to.'

__

//Get up.//

'Center it, I _can't_!'

"Get up. Quatre get up. You're going to be late."

A pair of sleepy blue eyes blinked open and Quatre focused fuzzily on the softly curving lips that were poised just above his own.

"Come one now, I now you hate mornings. But you can't sleep in today, you'll miss the ceremony and Hilde will never forgive you. It's her first solo," the lips said, brushing over his own in a soft kiss.

At the contact, Quatre came fully awake and smiled up at his lover, placing his hands around the warm body above him and pulling it closer, deepening the kiss. A few minutes later they parted, breathlessly.

"Maybe Hilde won't mind if you miss the beginning."

Quatre laughed and sat up abruptly, trying to ignore other parts of his anatomy which had recently 'woken up'. "Now Trowa, weren't you the one trying to get me _out_ of bed just a few seconds ago?" he teased, swinging his legs around to the side of the mattress and stepping down onto the floor.

Trowa watched his lover comb long fingers through tousled blonde curls and pouted. "I was wrong. Come back to bed."

"Sorry, no can do. And you'd better get up too. Sunrise isn't that far off and Sally will be expecting us in the Hall soon. Plus I want some breakfast before we go. Can't sing on an empty stomach, after all."

Trowa groaned and rolled out of bed gracefully, flinching as his warm feet touched the cold floor. "How can you think of eating so early in the morning?" he inquired, grabbing a pair of breeches out of the dresser that were not as grass stained as the rest he owned.

Quatre pulled a bright blue robe out of the closet and pulled it on over his shift, wincing at the scratchiness of the wool against his skin. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he lectured, trying to tie the elaborate jeweled belt that was supposed to circle his waist and not having much success. "It provides fuel for your brain and strength for your body and—center it—it makes you happier and healthier throughout your day—damn it why won't this unenclosed belt attach?"

Trowa moved over to his lover and took the belt from his hands. "Here, let me do that. You've got it all hooked together wrong…" 

While his lover fiddled with the belt, Quatre was content to just lean against the strong frame. Absentmindedly, he began to run his fingers across the other man's shoulders, marveling at the softness of the skin and the hard muscle beneath it. Trowa froze at the touch and then hissed out a soft breath of air.

"Stop that right now or we're never going to make it out of this room and you'll never get your damn breakfast," he warned.

Quatre pouted playfully. "I thought you liked it when I touch you," he whined, still tracing the outline of Trowa's biceps.

"I do," Trowa replied, gritting his teeth and trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. "Just not while we're in a hurry. So you'd better stop trying to tempt me, you devil child—Aha. There, that's done now." Trowa hooked the belt into place and gave it a satisfying little pat.

"Devil child! But Trowa, you always said I was your little angel," Quatre said, trying to adopt a hurt expression but failing miserably.

Trowa smiled and dropped a kiss on the upturned forehead. "Ah, but all devils were once fallen angels, remember?"

Quatre aimed a mock punch at Trowa's shoulder and bounced away to peek at himself in the mirror. The robe was really too big for him but it was the same colour as his eyes and he supposed it gave him a rather mystic look. The belt was gold lapis, quite heavy and awkward, and studded with aquamarines and sapphires in a pattern that vaguely outlined a cloud-like figurine blowing a puff of air into the sky. All very ceremonial.

__

And gaudy. I don't see why I can't wear my breeches and tunic. It would be much more comfortable, not to mention practical. I can hardly walk in this get-up. And I look like a monk.

Quatre made a face at his reflection and turned to find Trowa pulling a simple green tunic on over his breeches and fasten the leather belt around his waist. It wasn't nearly as fancy as what Quatre was wearing but the sleeves were cream coloured and puffed out nicely around Trowa's arms and there was a light gold trim around the collar of the tunic. In fact, Trowa looked like a young lord, if one could ignore the faded grass stains that circled the knees of his loose breeches.

"Don't you have anything that's not grass stained, Trowa?"

"No, sorry. I'll have to get Shaina to wash them all out for me with that new soap she got from the trader's last week."

"Not even the pair I bought you last week?" Quatre asked, although he already knew the answer.

Trowa looked sheepish. "I'm sorry Kat. I sang a fertility for the Darlians' garden yesterday and didn't even realize I had them on at the time."

"Don't be sorry," Quatre sighed. "I know how it is with you and earth kigh. I'm just glad I don't ruin all my clothes when I sing air and fire."

"But you do always manage to get soaked whenever you sing water."

"Don't remind me."

Trowa tried to brush back the fall of auburn hair that floated down over his face but, seeing as the struggle remained hopeless, he quickly gave up and let it alone. He could never get his hair to obey his wishes anyway.

"We'd better go, it's quarter to five," Trowa remarked, picking up his small silver flute from the case it rested in.

"Quarter to five!" Quatre exclaimed, diving for his hairbrush and pulling it frantically through his own unruly locks. "We really will be late. Come on Trowa. Hilde kill us if we miss her debut."

Trowa chuckled as he watched his lover whirl across the room, grabbing sheets of music with one hand and dragging the brush through his hair with the other. "I guess this means we'll have to skip breakfast after all?" he said innocently.

"Oh there's time for a quick bite," Quatre amended and swept out the door towards the kitchen while Trowa followed behind at a slightly slower pace. 

~*~*~*~*~

****

"I see you finally made it," called a teasing voice as Quatre entered the main hall at a dead run, a piece of toast still stuck in his mouth.

The place was rather full for so early in the morning. Really only the novices from their class and those taking part in the ceremony had to be there, but knowing Hilde, she had probably told everyone one she knew to come and watch her first solo. Quatre walked up to Albek, one of his classmates who loved practical jokes and sang a pretty good fire, which were two things that did _not_ go together well. Or at least, not for the person he happened to be playing a joke on that day.

"Sod off, Albek. There's still fifteen minutes to sunrise, I haven't missed anything," Quatre retorted around a mouthful of bread and butter. Swallowing quickly he looked around the hall for the one face he was expecting to see. "Where's Hilde?"

Albek shrugged and straightened the collar of his robe uncomfortably. The bright red fabric clashed horribly with the considerably lighter orange of his hair and he had grown taller since he had last put on that robe. The sleeves only went down to his forearms.

"She's probably reading her music for the hundredth time. She was so nervous about this morning that she didn't eat a thing a breakfast. But then, you wouldn't know since you were rather late to the kitchens…"

Quatre sent the boy a glare and Albek grinned widely. "Boy, you're sure grumpy this morning. What's the matter? Did Trowa keep you up all night?"

Quatre blushed hotly and was about to flee in embarrassment when a warm arm draped over his shoulder and a familiar body melded against his backside.

"That's right," said Trowa, his voice a seductive baritone. "Got a problem?"

"Oh no," grinned Albek. "I'm just riddled with envy. Chrsyia's been gone Walking for a month now and I haven't gotten any since she left. Ever think of sharing the wealth, Quatre?" 

Quatre's face went as red as Albek's robe as the boy leered at him suggestively.

"Now Albek, you know I'm not very good at sharing," Trowa lectured. "Besides which, I don't think Chrysia would appreciate you dallying with me and Quatre while she's gone."

Albek nodded. "You're right. She'd probably be pissed at me for not waiting until she could join in the fun."

"Guys!" Quatre squeaked in a mortified tone. "Don't uh, don't you think we should get going to the courtyard? It's almost sunrise."

Albek made a big show of sighing regretfully and said, "You're right. It's Hilde's big day and the sun won't wait any longer. I wonder where she is though. She should be here by now."

"She can't possibly be late for her first solo," Quatre said.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Trowa commented wryly. "This is Hilde i'Sheibakker we're talking about. I bet she's with Epiqua in the stables fussing over that new foal that was birthed yesterday."

Quatre frowned. "Maybe I should ask the kigh where she is."

"Couldn't hurt."

Quatre pursed his lips and whistled a four note sequence, feeling the breeze around him intensify. A thin and sharply pointed face floated up to Quatre's eye-level, stormy grey eyes in a pale face seeming to laugh at him wordlessly. The body was nearly translucent, the features shifting constantly except for the eyes. Quatre sang a brief question to the air kigh, adding the notes of Hilde's name. The kigh ran its pale fingers through Quatre's hair once and then it was gone. A few seconds later it sailed back into the hallway, creating a magnificent breeze that had people grasping onto their sheets of music in tight fists so that they would not blow away. A few irritated glances were tossed Quatre's way and he ducked his head sheepishly.

"You were right Trowa, she was in the stables. But she's coming out now so she should be here very soon," Albek said while Quatre was busy singing the kigh a quick gratitude.

As if on cue a girl in a deep brown robe burst into the hallway, running a hand nervously through the short cap of dark hair and searching the faces around her.

"Hilde! Over here!" Quatre called, waving his hand in the air ineffectively. "Oh drat, she doesn't see me. Why don't you call her Trowa, you're taller then me."

"So is everyone else in here," Albek added under his breath and received a vicious kick in the shin from the blond next to him. 

By then, Hilde had spotted the trio and made her way over to them, her face radiating excitement. She greeted Trowa with a warm smile and threw her arms around Quatre, effectively smothering the boy. "Isn't it great? My first solo and they day is perfect!"

"How can you tell?" Albek teased. "The sun isn't even up yet."

"We bards know everything," Hilde said. "Isn't that right Quatre?"

"Can't…breathe…"

"Oh! Sorry." Hilde released the boy and he stumbled back a bit, gasping for air. Trowa couldn't help but snicker at his expression and the glare Quatre sent him back only made him laugh harder.

"You are so sleeping on the couch tonight," Quatre muttered. 

Hilde giggled and then grabbed Albek with one arm and Quatre with the other. "Come on, we're going to be late if you don't stop dilly-dallying around. We need to get to our places. Let's go, hurry up!"

Albek allowed himself to be dragged behind the persistent girl as they followed the rest of the group, which was steadily trickling into the courtyard, taking their places as they'd done for numerous other ceremonies. 

"Did she just accuse us of dilly-dallying around when she was the last one here?" he asked of Trowa, incredulously.

"Don't even argue," the taller brown-haired boy advised. "It's just easier that way."

"I heard that Trowa."

"Well good. Then your hearing isn't going."

Quatre ignored the banter around him and took a moment to breathe in the crisp morning air. The courtyard was dark with a hint of dawn on the horizon. The stars still sprinkled the deep navy of the sky and a bright quarter moon added a dull glow to the various shrubs and plants in the wide garden. The flowers were just beginning to bloom, having just come through a relatively mild winter, and Quatre could see shoots of daffodils and day lilies peeking through the damp earth. The dogwood trees were already in bloom, the pale flowers seeming to glow with the moonlight.

__

It's just as beautiful as the first time I saw it, Quatre thought, remembering his own summons to the Bardic Hall nearly four years ago. _I gave up everything to come here. My family, my home…everything. _

"Absolutely not," Raberba i' Winneria, Third Duc of Vidori said, slamming his hands down onto the desktop signifying an end to the conversation. "No son of mine is going to run off and become a bard. We should have stopped those damned music lessons as soon as they interfered with your work."

"You mean as soon as they interfered with you making me into a duplicate of yourself," Quatre snapped back. "I'm horrible at being a duc, you know that. I can't run the keep and you know what happened the last time I tried to organize the books for you. I have no head for maths and court diplomacy makes my head hurt. Why don't you let Iria do all that stuff? She actually _likes_ maths and then I can go study at the Bardic Hall—"

"Iria is not the only male heir of Vidori and you would do well to remember that," the stern man said. "You'd do better at maths if you actually studied them once and a while instead of playing all day on that unenclosed harp. You're fourteen. You have certain responsibilities now. You can't go on acting like a child."

Quatre pushed his bangs out of his eyes and tried very hard not to lose his temper. "Father I'm _good_ at this. Marsia tested me for ability and she says they'd practically kill to have me at the Hall! I can sing three of four quarters _and_ I can already call the air kigh as good as Mars can. You've seen it yourself father."

"I'll not have you shirking your duty in order to indulge yourself in such a waste of time as composing silly ballads."

"It's not a waste of time," the boy shouted indignantly. "Marsia told me that the bards were the ears and eyes and voice of the country. They harmonize the physical and spiritual—"

"Rubbish," the man interrupted. "Your mother could sing the kigh and look where it got her. Stoned to death by Cemandian peasants on a Walk to Elbasen. I won't have you come to the same fate. You shall remain right here in Vidori and do your duty as heir or I will disown you and throw you on the street and you'll never be able to come back here. Never. Do you understand me?"

The boy clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands hard enough to draw blood. His eyes glittered with tears but he refused to let them fall. He was no child. He knew what he had to do.

"Well, do you?"

"Yes, sir. I understand completely."

"Then this conversation is finished. You may go find Iria and have her continue with the lessons you missed this morning talking to that bard." The dismissal left no room for argument and Quatre gave a stiff bow to his father before leaving the room.

__

I will_ be a bard father. You cannot stop me from achieving my dream. My life is my own._ Reaching the haven of his own quarters, Quatre slammed the door shut and started to shove some clothes into a small pack along with his harp and flute. He would leave that very night. Duty be damned.

Quatre sighed and shook his head free of the unsettling images that had come back to haunt him. _Sometimes Bardic memory is a real pain in the ass. _Quatre had not spoken to his father since the day he left, almost four years ago. Did his sisters miss him at all? Had father even told them why he left, or did they think he just abandoned them on a whim, leaving his family behind without a second thought. _I wonder if father will ever forgive me?_

A pair of warm lips descended on his forehead, distracting him from his reverie. Quatre looked up into a pair of concerned green eyes and smiled.

"Trowa?"

"You were looking just a bit too serious there. You shouldn't frown so, it'll give you wrinkles," the taller boy teased, brushing a lock of hair away from Quatre's face with a familiar, comforting gesture.

Looking at his lover, the way his cinnamon coloured hair flopped down over one side of his face, obscuring one bright eye from view, the soft peach-coloured lips that could curve invitingly and part wide with laughter or song, the rich voice that could make him shiver with a single word, Quatre became lost all over again. He fisted his hands into Trowa's tunic and buried his face in the fabric, smelling the clean, grassy scent that Trowa always seemed to have. The taller boy blinked in surprise but returned the embrace.

"Here now, what brought this on?" he inquired.

"Nothing," Quatre replied. "I just love you." _And it was all worth it. The banishment, the loneliness, the loss of title; just to be able to wake up in your arms is worth all that and more._

"I love you too, Quatre i'Melek a'Raberba. So stop frowning and give me a kiss," Trowa demanded, bending down to take the offered lips. They stayed like that until a muted cough drew their attention.

"Albek if I ever start acting that sappy, would you just kill me?" Hilde asked.

"My lady, I would gladly stick the sword through your stomach myself," Albek promised reverently.

"Oh, shut up."

"No, seriously. I could write a ballad about how sickeningly sweet that was."

"Well then why don't you do that?" Trowa teased. "We all know how well 'The Desert Angel' was received."

Quatre groaned and covered his ears. "_Please_ don't mention that song ever again. I've heard it enough times to last me until I die. And it doesn't even sound a bit like me!"

"You've got to admit, it's a catchy tune, though." Hilde hummed a few bars and was interrupted by an elbow connecting with her stomach. "Oof—Trowa!"

"What?" said the other boy, trying for an innocent look but failing miserably.

"It's almost time," Quatre said, looking at the sun just peeking over the horizon. "We should probably take our places."

Trowa nodded and hugged Hilde briefly. "Good luck. I know you'll be great."

"Thanks, but I doubt it'll be anything special. I'm not nearly as adept in singing earth as you are," she said adjusting her robe nervously.

Quatre gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine. They picked you for a solo, didn't they? The Bardic Captain wouldn't have let you try it, if you weren't ready."

"Guess you're right. We'll find out soon won't we."

Quatre, Albek, and Hilde took their places in the middle of the courtyard, while Trowa went to stand with the other members of the chorus, his flute in hand. A girl in a robe as green as the sea joined the three in the middle and Trowa recognized her as Marja, a fisherman's daughter from Riverton who had made a lot of progress in her two years stay at the Hall. She sang water like Trowa sang earth. _Except without the grass stains._

Trowa looked down at his clothes ruefully. _Since I'm only playing accompaniment today, maybe the kigh will see fit to leave my trousers unscathed._

The Bardic Captain quieted the excited whispers and giggles from those assembled and nodded to the four in the middle. Trowa held his breath and waited for the ceremony to begin.

Albek went first, his deep baritone created a thrumming base line, which was soon built on by the soft plucking of lute strings. He Sang fire, and the sun seemed to respond, the first rays of light bursting free of the purpled clouds that separated the dawn from the night sky. The melody was simple and strong, a bold declaration of a new day. Trowa could feel the earth warm under his feet and the torches that lit the garden flicked and sparked in rhythm with the Song. 

__

I, the autumn  
I, the evening star   
I have been an echo

Hilde joined Albek then, her pure alto weaving a complex harmony and building on the melody that Albek had started. The bass-clarinets took up Albek's part and he dropped out as Hilde began her solo. She deepened her tone slightly and started a series of chromatic sequences, altering the pattern each time, creating dissonance and then resolving it. Trowa felt the kigh stir under his feet and the ground resonated with the call of Hilde's Song. He smiled and gave her a thumb's up as Albek joined in once again. 

__

I shall be a wave  
I shall be the moon  
I have been everything, I am myself

After another short duet, Hilde playing on Albek's melody in a call and answer game, Quatre added his own voice to the mix. His tone matched Hilde's and they raised the tempo of the Song, moving it faster, note following note in an energetic tumble. Minor chords and triad's were built on and then broken to pieces in dissonance and eerie softness. They Sang of uncertainty and change, but Albek's base kept a steady repetition. Then both clarinets and horns took up the melody while Hilde and Albek fell quiet, letting Quatre take his solo. 

__

I; the summer  
I; the ebony  
I am the dreamer

Capricious and lilting, Quatre Sang, trills and scales falling from his mouth, pushing the tempo even faster into cut time. The breeze flitted across the courtyard and carried his voice with it, playing with the volume and adding its own wail and whistle. Trowa spotted a pair of ghostly fingers weaving themselves through Quatre's hair and grinned, lifting his flute. The ironwood instrument was placed to his lips and Trowa played a counter melody to Quatre's matching the pace and then raising it again. Not missing a beat, the blond boy wrapped a sixteenth note scale around Trowa's melody and then repeated it, a little louder each time until the trees shook with the force of the gale the kigh had stirred up. Hilde and Albek joined in once again and more complete major chords were built, the scale leading upwards, going faster and faster until Marja broke out in her flawless soprano, holding the high C as the rest of the accompaniment tumbled down the scale and then became silent.

__

ignis, aqua,  
caelum, terra,   
hierns et aestas,  
autumnus et  
tempus vernum...*  
  
The invocation was slow and soft. Marja repeated it twice alone and then all of the bards Sang until the sun shone brightly in the sky, no longer overshadowed by the lingering darkness of night. The kigh gathered quickly around the four and then spun away, taking the last note with them. It was now officially the first day of Spring. Second Quatre had begun. Trowa grinned and watched as Hilde hugged and kissed both Quatre and Albek, her smile positively joyful. He walked over to join them while subtly checking his knees for more grass stains.

—END CHAPTER ONE—

*fire, water,  
sky, earth,   
winter and summer  
autumn and  
spring time...


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Book of Days – Chapter Two

Author: Cherry Blossom

Notes: Shkoder, Cemandia, the Bardic Hall, the kigh and anything else dealing with the book _Sing the Four Quarters_ doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Tanya Huff. And incidentally, Gundam Wing doesn't belong to be either. Neither does the song _Book of Days_ which belongs to Enya. All I own is this story. 3+4, 1+2, 5+M, and other various pairings. Totally AU.

CHAPTER TWO

Blood. It stained the ground beneath his feet and bubbled up like lava, dark and hot. Quatre watched the ground split and crack and the thick liquid dribble out and over the parched land, sliding slowly towards his bare feet. 

He opened his mouth to Sing but only four notes would emerge from his lips, the four notes of Trowa's name. He Sang them again and again and again….

//Trowa! TROWA!//

"TROWA!"

"**Quatre i'Melek a'Raberba**, **wake up**!"

Quatre's eyes flew open and he grasped onto Trowa's broad shoulders, pressing his nose into the clean skin of his lover's chest and breathing the deep grassy scent. Wind rustled the bedsheets and Quatre wondered for an instant if he forgot to close the window before climbing into bed before he realized that it was the kigh creating the breeze. They hovered around the pair on the bed, sliding worried fingers through their hair and across their faces. Quatre sang them a shaky gratitude and wiped cold sweat from his forehead.

"What were you dreaming about?" Trowa asked, quietly, his hands rubbing comforting circles on Quatre's back. "You were singing my name in your sleep. Over and over. I had to use command to wake you up."

Quatre leaned into Trowa's touch and sighed, the terror that had held him already receding. "I can't remember. It's all gone now."

"It must have been a bad one. You sounded so…afraid." Trowa's face was calm but his eyes were dark with worry.

Quatre shivered, suddenly cold. "Yeah." 

Trowa pulled the covers up over them both and spooned Quatre against him, placing protective arms around his waist and laying his chin on the boy's shoulder. "You going to be okay?" he whispered into Quatre's ear.

"I'll be fine," Quatre whispered back, snuggling deeper in Trowa's arms. But the feeling of dread in the back of his mind would not be so easily quelled. 

__

'I'll be fine.' 

~*~*~*~*~

The Cemandian market was always full of people, but it being close to Second Quarter Festival there seemed to be even more then usual. The sea of elbows and hands reaching across sturdy wooden tables to grab at brightly coloured cloths or exotic fruits and vegetables, brought from the South, was only rivaled by the noise of many voices bartering and boasting their wares. It was the perfect place for a pair of thieves to do work. 

"'Scuse me," a filthy, young boy exclaimed as he bumped into stout man draped in multi-coloured scarves of silk and carrying a rather expensive looking gold cane. "Would you wish to donate some gulls to a starving kid?" the boy inquired, trying his best to look small and helpless, fiddling adorably with the long, chestnut-coloured braid that flopped down over his shoulder. 

The man brushed the boy aside and glared at him impatiently before stalking off to the tavern he's been heading for in the first place.

The boy watched him leave and grinned as he pocketed the coins he had stolen easily from the man's money belt. "Thanks for your contribution," he murmured as he disappeared into the crowd once more.

Duo loved market days, if only for the fact that all the really stupid people seemed to come out of the corners and practically beg him to rob them blind. Plus anything that couldn't be stolen could be bought cheaper around Festival Time. _'Not that there's anything I couldn't steal if I really wanted to,'_ the boy gloated as he spotted another promising target. 

An overweight, middle aged, woman was looking over the various charms and jewelry spread out over a table next to the Red Horse Inn, one of the more expensive places to rest ones head at night. She was dressed in heavy velvet fabric that hung loosely around her frame and her silken purse hung absently from her arm as she debated whether rubies would look nicer then sapphires with her complexion. Duo shuffled closer to the woman, putting on his best innocent waif face. As she made her purchase and turned around, Duo pretended to stumble into her path, grasping at her arm for balance.

"I'm s-so sorry m'lady!" he squeaked in a terror-stricken voice. "I deanna mean ta crash into ya like that. It's me bum leg, you know. It just don't wanna work right."

"Nevermind child," the woman said. "There's no harm done."

"You wouldn't want to spare a gull so's I could get me sometin' ta eat, would ya, lady? I haven't eaten in a while…."

The woman smiled and deposited a quarter gull into Duo's outstretched hand. "There you go. Get yourself a warm meal, okay?"

Duo watched, wide-eyed as she walked away, the quarter gull burning in his palm. Usually, no one ever voluntarily gave him their money. Which was fine by him, since he had decided a long time ago that is was quite all right to steal from those who couldn't be bothered with charity.

__

'Crap. Now I have guilt.'

"Hey lady! Wait up, ya dropped sometin'!" Duo called, rushing after the woman before she got too far away.

When he caught up to her he produced the ruby-studded broach she had just purchased from the folds of his tunic. "You dropped this," he explained, lamely.

"I hadn't even realized I'd lost it. Thank you, young man," she exclaimed and patted him on the head before bustling off on her way. Duo watched her progress with a kind of bemused expression on his face. _'Strange lady…'_

"Whad'ya do that for?" a voice said at his elbow, causing Duo to jump with surprise.

"Geez Solo! Warn a guy or somethin' before you do that, will ya? I almost shit myself," the braided boy hissed, one hand pressed to his chest.

"Sorry," Solo said, trying to hide a grin. Duo looked at the taller boy beside him, a hint of a smile curving the peach-coloured lips.

"No you're not," he pointed out.

"You're right. M' not. So, whad'ya give the woman back her broach for? You nicked it easily, I saw ya do it. She wouldn't have missed it for a while yet."

Duo shrugged lazily. "She was nice ta me. An' she gave me a quarter gull when I asked her for money."

Solo rolled his eyes and gave the smaller boy's braid a soft tug. "You keep givin' back the profits to everyone who contributes we won't have enough ta eat, yanno."

"Aw, c'mon Solo, it's only one time. Betcha she's the only nice person in this crowd. We'll make enough to buy the Emperor's Palace by the end of t'day, promise!"

Solo sighed and released the boy's braid, running a hand through his own, shortly-cropped, blond locks. "Awright kid. Jus' this one time I'll let it go. One of these days your unenclosed morals are gonna get us killed," he muttered to himself.

Duo pouted but didn't try to argue with the other boy. Ever since he'd been little he'd idolized Solo, even though the boy was only one year older then he was. Solo had always taken care of him, ever since he was abandoned by his parents at the age of six.

(("Hey kid, where's your parents?"

Duo looked at the boy who had spoken to him cautiously. After all, he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers. Mamma said so. But he also wasn't supposed to stay out after dark in the marketplace. Why hadn't mamma come back to take him home? He was scared of the dark…

"What's the matter kid, can't ya talk? M' names Solo, what's yours?"

Duo decided that since he knew the other boy's name now, he wasn't _really_ a stranger anymore. It would be all right to talk to him. Besides, he looked friendly.

"M' Duo."

"Duo, eh? S' funny. Duo and Solo…looks like it was fate that we met kid. Where's your mum? You shouldn't be out so late at night. There's weirdos on the street, yanno."

Duo bit his lip and looked around the shadowed street once more. Mamma had told him to stay at the marketplace until she came to get him, so where was she? He'd done as she said. He hadn't moved an inch all day, even though he was hungry and tired and now that it was dark he was getting just a bit frightened as well.

Solo regarded Duo curiously. "It's okay if ya don't have a mum. I don't got one either," he claimed, almost proudly.

"I have a mum!" Duo cried. "I have got one. She just isn't here right now. But she's coming, I know she is!" 

Solo raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, sheesh kid. Whatever you say. So how about I just wait here with you until she comes? It's not nice to be out here alone in the dark and besides, I need someone ta talk to. Whaddya say?" 

Duo agreed quickly, shifting over on the step he was sitting on so Solo could sit down beside him. He didn't want to be alone and the boy seemed interesting to say the least. Duo had never had a friend before. All the village kids were afraid of him because he could talk to demons. He tried not to, but they always seemed to be around him and he couldn't help calling them. Mamma and pappa had told him once that the demons were evil and would take him away if he talked to them. They had called in a priest to send the demons away and "out of the circle" but it hadn't worked very well. The demons had made the candles tip over and burn the tapestry before the priest had put out the fire. After that, Duo had tried his best to ignore the demons when they came, but it was hard and sometimes he forgot that they were evil.

"So, tell me about yourself kid," Solo urged, relaxing on the hard cement steps beside Duo. "What's with the long hair?"

And Duo told him about his mother's wish that he keep his hair long, his favorite thing to eat, what his village looked like, what his dad looked like, and about his lack of friends.

"Yer a good enough kid," Solo said. "Why ain't you got any friends?"

Duo told him about the demons and waited to see what Solo's reaction would be. To his surprise the boy merely shrugged and said, "So? There's a lot worse things you could do then talk to demons, in my 'pinion. I seen a lot of stuff on the streets and ain't no demons ever bothered me like people do, so I guess they're not as bad, right?"

Duo and Solo talked all night, and while some of the drunks and other unpleasant visitors to the square where they sat might have wanted to bother the two youngsters, Solo had a stolen set of knives and he wasn't afraid to use them. Duo stayed in the marketplace for days before finally accepting that his mamma wasn't ever going to come back for him. By that time, Solo had agreed to take him in as an apprentice and teach him how to pickpockets for a living. Still, Duo always kept his hair long, just in case mamma came back.))

Duo pushed away the unpleasant thought that his parents never had come back to the marketplace to look for him. Solo was all he needed anyway. They had stayed together and survived all these years by themselves. Who needed a mother anyway?

"How much did ya get so far kid?" Solo asked.

"Three gulls, four quarter gulls and six ha'pennies," Duo tallied.

Solo calculated in his head, a crease showing on his brow like it always did whenever he was thinking. "That'll get us some porridge and those new shoes you needed. But if we can score two more gulls we can get meatpies instead of porridge."

"I can get two more gulls easy," Duo boasted. "Plus another half-gull."

"Awright," Solo grinned. "Do it in twenty minutes and meet me over at the cobblers. I need ta go see Old Laney about the six shillings he owes me."

"Right. See ya in a bit!" Duo turned to go but found himself restrained by a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, be careful okay, kid? I dun wanna find ya face down in a gutter somewhere," Solo said, his eyes softening slightly.

Duo rolled his eyes and shrugged the hand off. "M' not a kid, yanno. I'm only a year younger n' you."

"Yeah, but you're so scrawny ya look like you're ten," Solo teased and ducked Duo's punch with a graceful move. "Get on with ya," he laughed. "We got work to do."

Duo stuck out his tongue and then offered a grin and a wave to the other boy as he strode away, quickly becoming lost in the crowd once more. He walked among the brightly clothed masses, stopping every so often to watch a group of street performers juggle batons of fire, or walk on glass for a few pennies. Merchants hocked their wares while customers argued and bartered over prices. Duo laughed at the young nobles who had painted their left arms green in the newest trend. He shied away from the group of priests in their trailing white robes and long beards. He didn't want to be hauled in for associating with demons again anytime soon. Duo considered and discarded many prospective targets until a man tying his horse to a post at the inn caught his eye.

__

'Hmm…well dressed, gold buttons and trimming on his tunic…and that horse isn't shoddy looking either. He's gotta be rich. A couple gulls missing from his purse would hardly make a dent, I bet.'

Duo watched the man snap a curt order at the stablehand and look disdainfully around the marketplace as the poor boy hurried to take the man's horse and bring it to the stables. The man scowled at the dust on his fine clothing and tried in vain to brush it off with his gloved hands. Duo decided to adopt a limp as he shuffled over to where the man was now demanding to see the owner of the inn. 

"Beggin' your pardon Lord," the boy said, making his voice higher then it usually was, "but could you spare a gull for a starving child?" Duo shoved a dirt-covered hand in the man's face, while his other stealthily worked at the tie of the man's purse.

"Off with you, scamp," the man growled, sneering at the upraised palm. "I've got no time for the likes of you."

"Please sir, even a ha'penny would do," Duo whined. _'Just a few more seconds while I undo this dratted tie…'_ "I haven't eaten in so very long, sir."

The man glared at Duo and moved a hand to the handle of the expensive looking sword at his waist. Duo let a hint of fear show in his violet tinted eyes and recoiled from the man.

"Okay, okay. Don't get your hosiery in a bunch m'Lord. I'll just be on my way…" Duo muttered, slinking off slowly until he was a good distance away.

__

'Perfect,' he thought smugly to himself as he fingered the three gulls and gold plated pocket watch he had pilfered, that were now safely stowed in the folds of his robe. _'Three whole gulls and that watch'll fetch a good price. Solo's gonna be so impressed.' _

"Theif! Get back here you brat!"

Duo's head shot up as the man who he had robbed scant seconds ago pointed an accusing finger at him through the crowed, his face a mask of fury.

__

'Oh shit.'

Duo ran, pushing past the group of traders in his way, ducking the hands that grabbed for him.

"Catch him! Quickly!"

__

'Yeah right, buddy,' Duo thought as he scrambled up a stone wall that separated the city from the marketplace. He landed roughly on the other side and rushed through the alleyways, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible. After wandering around the city in a random pattern for fifteen minutes Duo decided that he must have lost his pursuers. He headed back to the marketplace entrance and surveyed the scene. _'Looks like his Lordship has given up lookin' for me. I'd better get over to the cobblers before Solo has a fit.'_

Suddenly, a large hand clamped down painfully on his shoulder and a voiced hissed in his ear. "Hello scamp. I don't suppose you know the whereabouts of three gulls and an expensive gold watch, do you? They seem to have gone missing from my purse."

Duo squirmed in the man's grip but couldn't get free. "I'll scream," he threatened. "I'll tell them you're molesting me and the guard will put you in a little tiny jail cell where you'll sit until you rot and your teeth fall out and your hair turns to ash and dust."

The man looked shocked for a few seconds and then gave a hearty laugh. Duo pouted, unable to see what was so funny about the situation. Eventually, the man composed himself and gave Duo a cold smile.

"Foolish imp," he said. "Haven't you got any more sense then to rob a member of the Royal Guard?"

Duo looked at the man in horror, only now recognizing the silver pattern on his tunic, partly hidden from dust, that identified him as Nichol Arbhhian, Captain of the Queen's Men. _'Shit, shit, shit…'_

"I believe you were saying something about a jail cell?" the Captain remarked, taking the boy firmly by the arm and marching him off towards the inn where the other members of the Queen's Men were currently gathering. Duo scanned the faces watching the apprehension but he couldn't see Solo's anywhere. 

__

'I'm screwed.' 

~*~*~*~*~

"I don't like her."

Queen Dorothea resisted the urge to smack her son upside the head in exasperation. Barely.

"I don't care if you like her or not," she said icily. "This betrothal will go through. Sanq's army is essential to our plans of invading Shkoder and the only way we'll ever get our hands on Milliard's lovely Royal Guard is if you, my dear son, marry the princess Relena."

Arath's eyes narrowed and he turned on his heel and stamped out of the throne room, hands closed into tight fists at his sides. Dorothea watched him go and sighed.

"Well…that went well," Seroth remarked, having seen the crowned prince in various temper tantrums before. "At least he didn't throw anything."

"There is that," Dorothea commented wryly, looking over at her primary advisor. "He'll get used to the idea eventually. This alliance will ensure our victory against Shkoder and we'll finally be able to take our rightful place in the world."

Seroth looked more skeptical. "With all due respect Majesty, how can you be sure that Milliard will agree to this war? The Empire and Shkoder are not friends but they are hardly enemies. The Bardic Counsel—"

"Will be able to do nothing once my plans are set in motion. I already have a little surprise ready for those cursed demon-singers. Milliard may be indifferent to those who dwell outside the circle mingling among his own people now, but all it will take is a little disruption…" Dorothea smiled and Seroth shivered, having seen that smile before, usually during executions of traitors.

"Disruption, your Majesty?"

Dorothea laughed and stroked a long nailed finger across the almost too pale skin of her cheek. "What could be more disrupting then death?"

~*~*~*~*~

Duo shifted, trying to force his body into a more comfortable position, which was hard to do when chained to a wall. His arms were tired from being raised above his head for hours and the circulation was almost gone, giving him that numb and prickly feeling in his hands. His hair was a mess, floating down over his shoulders in a loose tangle. He had convinced the guard not to simply chop off the braid but all his lock picks hidden in the chestnut strands had been confiscated and they hadn't redone the braid when they were through searching him. Duo looked around at the darkened cell and briefly wondered if he would ever see the sky again. The only good thing about his imprisonment was that it appeared that not even the demons could reach him so far down in the dungeons of the palace.

__

'So at least when I die down here I'll rejoin the circle.'

Duo snorted and blew his bangs out of his eyes one more time. The thought was not very comforting.

~*~*~*~*~

Quatre sang a quick gratitude to the kigh that swirled around him and hefted his quitara under his arm, hurrying off in the direction the kigh had indicated. _'He's probably forgotten all about it,'_ he grumbled inwardly, quickening his pace until he was almost running. The sun was warm on his back but the breeze still held a touch of winter in it and Quatre was glad for the scarf Trowa had made him wrap about his neck before setting off for the day. _"You'll catch a cold and then be miserable all second quarter. Just wear the scarf Kat." _Bards were almost never sick and Quatre had always been blessed with disgustingly good health but it was sweet the way Trowa fussed over him and Quatre would be lying if he said he didn't like the attention. 

Quatre saw a read-headed figure surrounded by air kigh off in the distance and waved an arm in the air. "Albek!"

The figure turned around and waved back. "Give me a second, 'kay?" he yelled.

Quatre waited while Albek finished his message and sang a gratitude to the kigh, sending them on their way. Two of the air spirits blew a breeze over to Quatre and ruffled his hair in the annoyingly protective way they had of doing before grinning their wide, toothless grins at him and disappearing. 

"Sorry about keeping you waiting," Albek said, coming to meet the blond. "I kind of had a message."

"Chrsyia?"

Albek's cheeks flushed and he nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. She's just crossing the border into the Empire now. She'll be home in a couple weeks she says. Maybe sooner if she can find a ferry that'll take her."

Quatre smiled mischievously. "What else did she say?"

"Oh, you know. The usual mushy stuff."

"Like…"

"Like mind your own business, nosey," Albek retorted, his blush deepening until his whole face was almost as red as his hair. "Do I ask you about your personal life?"

"Actually, yes, you do."

"Yeah but I'm the perverted one. I'm supposed to do that." Quatre looked like he wanted to discuss that a bit more but Albek hastily changed the subject. "Look, aren't we supposed to be somewhere right now?"

Quatre blinked and then grabbed Albek by the arm and dragged him back down the hill at top speed. "C'mon," he said. "If we're late for percussion with Liene one more time she'll make us help Isolda in the kitchens."

"So?"

"So doing dishes is something I'd rather not have to do in my spare time."

"What," huffed Albek, trying to keep up with the smaller boy, "the great Desert Angel can't get dishpan hands?" 

"I am so gonna smack you when we have time."

"Promise?"

Quatre growled and whistled a few short notes. The breeze grew stronger and the ground seemed to fold up under Albek's feet, causing the boy to trip and fall flat on his face.

"Oof…I did not deserve that."

"Yes, you did."

~*~*~*~*~

"Is it ready?" 

"Yes Majesty."

"Show me." The Queen of Cemandia sounded almost…bored. If it weren't for the strange glitter of interest in her pale blue eyes, Quinze would have thought that she might fall asleep at any moment.

"Bring me the vial!" The high priest summoned the apprentices to him, holding his breath as the tiny bottle of clear fluid was placed before the Queen and himself. She picked it up between two red tipped fingernails and Quize broke out into a cold sweat.

"Please, your Majesty. You must be very careful with the vial. One rupture would mean certain death for us all—"

"I know what I'm doing Quinze," she snapped, placing the vial back down in the silk lined box it had rested in. "How does it work?"

Quinze swallowed and bowed low. "With your permission, Majesty, inside the vial is contaminated water from the Karjesic Mountains. You remember ten quarters ago, the village of Islaban fell to plague, despite the work of the healers sent over to help. No survivors were left, my queen."

"Yes, I remember. Get to the point."

Her eyes flashed dangerously and Quinze had to bite his lower lip to keep it from trembling. "The area was closed off but one of the healers had kept a sample of the well water in the village. The healer died of course, but his family, not knowing what it was, was easily convinced to sell us the sample. The virus is unique. It will rest inside the first living body it come into contact with and infect every being that body touches, killing them in a matter of weeks, days even."

The queen smiled and clasped her hands in satisfaction. "Perfect. This will create the confusion I need to distract poor Milliard and his Demon Counselor. But how can I send it into the Empire without arousing suspicion…"

The heavy oak doors to the throne room suddenly burst open and an imposing figure strode into the room. He stopped just before the queen and her high priest and knelt. "Majesty."

"Why have you interrupted my meeting, Captain? You know I don't like to be…bothered."

"A thousand apologies, my Queen. I must ask a favour of you."

"A favour?"

The Captain of the Queen's Men scowled. "There is a thief I brought into the dungeons. Permission to hang him at first light?"

Dorothea's voice grew soft and dangerous. "You interrupted a _private_ meeting in order to ask my permission to kill a thief?" she hissed. "How unbelievably stupid are you, that you would think I could care less how you deal with petty criminals? Do whatever the hell you want with the little—wait….you said this thief is in the dungeons?"

Nichol nodded and Dorothea smiled and licked her lips. "I believe I have just found a solution to our problem, gentlemen."

—END CHAPTER TWO—


End file.
